


The Nail That Sticks Out

by YumeHanabi



Series: Before the Dawn [1]
Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Family Fluff, Gaius and Karla are twins, Gen, Kidfic, Minor Character Death, Shenanigans, Some angst, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeHanabi/pseuds/YumeHanabi
Summary: Gaius and Karla's childhood through the eyes of their ever-worrying father.
Relationships: Gaius & Karla & their father, Gaius & Karla Outway
Series: Before the Dawn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685662
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	The Nail That Sticks Out

**Author's Note:**

> ~~So I watched too many Taiga Dramas and...~~
> 
> *ahem*
> 
> So! Gaius kidfic! Because Karla said he was always smiling and I just had the urge to show that and write him being a little brat. And develop a couple OC. And some clan worldbuilding. Sorry if it starts sad, I wanted to start at the beginning, and that includes their mother's death (srsly Tales games pls stop killing off the characters' parents). Gaius' daddy is an anxious mess but tbh he's not wrong to be a bit worried haha
> 
> Note: I'm using "Arst" for Gaius' birthname
> 
> Many many thanks to TRS for illustrating the little family, they're so adorable ♥  
> (the pic is included below)

At first glance, Kamal Outway did not look like a family man. His piercing eyes and sharp tone painted the picture of a rather intimidating man, while his dedication to his duties suggested that he was not the type to set time aside for personal matters. He was expected to produce an heir, of course, but most of the inhabitants of Darhan had the impression that he would be interacting with his future children only to impart some well-chosen piece of wisdom or to correct them if they misbehaved, but would otherwise entrust their care to his wife or wet-nurses.

Kamal knew about the people’s opinions, but paid them no mind. Truth to be told, he did find babies a little too noisy and fussy for him, but a part of him was also really looking forward to having his own. This is why, when his wife Jothi shared with him the news that she was carrying not just one, but two children at once, he could not stop smiling for a whole month. Unfortunately, joy soon turned to sorrow when her rapidly declining health made it evident that she would not survive childbirth—if she even reached that point.

The town’s only two doctors visited the lady every day to ensure her pregnancy would be as smooth as possible, which they succeeded at, somehow. They were, however, unable to prevent her from weakening with every passing day, and, as predicted, the difficult labor took a toll on her. The twins were born safely, but she rapidly bled out in the delivery room, and the doctors were not able to save her despite their best efforts. Kamal could only hold her as she took her last breath.

That night was spent in a daze, of which Kamal remembered little. Preparing her body for the funeral, making arrangements with the wet-nurses to take care of the newborns, accommodating rooms for the nurses and attendants to rest, sending news throughout the town… There was so much to do, and he did not know how he would have done it without his friend’s help. Kohei Morli was not just Kamal’s childhood friend, but also his chief councilor when it came to clan matters, and his support was always a comfort in rough situations.

It was nearly morning when Kamal finally collapsed in bed for a restless nap. As he drifted to sleep, he realized that in the chaos of that night, he had barely had time to even look at his children. _No, that’s not it_ , he thought with a pang of guilt. It’s not that he didn’t have the time to look at them; he just didn’t want to. Not now, not while their mother’s last moments were still so fresh in his mind. _“Be strong for them,”_ she had said. In that moment, he felt anything but strong. Maybe the rumors were right, after all; maybe he was going to be an absentee father, entrusting their care to other people until they were old enough to be on their own…

“Get a grip!” he muttered angrily to himself.

The funeral was held the next day. Kamal would have preferred for it to be a private affair, but Jothi Outway had been well-loved by the people, and the whole town wanted to come and pay their respects. Her passing had caused a stir among the townspeople, who lamented the unfairness of her situation. Perhaps she could have been saved if she had been attended by the prestigious doctors who served the Long Dau’s court, they said. But the Outways were a small clan with neither the influence nor the means to send her down to the Long Dau capital for treatment.

“If even Her Ladyship cannot receive the best of care,” people wept, “what will become of our clan?”

Kamal stayed stoic all throughout the ceremony, offering reassurances that his wife’s unfortunate demise was not a sign of the clan’s upcoming end. But deep down, he felt as lost as they were.

“How are you feeling?” Kohei asked after the last person left.

“Empty.”

Kohei rubbed his back sympathetically. “Listen, I asked the nurses to bring the babies to your room. Go spend some time with them, take the rest of the day off. I’ll cover for you.”

Kamal’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like the ground under his feet had grown soft and he was about to fall. Thankfully, Kohei’s arm was there to hold on to.

“Kohei, I…” He tightened his grip to prevent his hand from trembling. “I’m not sure…”

If Kohei felt pain from the grip, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gently turned Kamal toward him so he could look at him in the eye, and planted his hands firmly on his shoulders.

“Kamal, they’re your children. Avoiding them won’t make it easier. Besides, newborns don’t bite. Now when they start teething, though…”

Kamal let out a small chuckle. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous. I’m just feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.” He pulled him into a hug. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

When he entered his room, the two wet-nurses immediately stood up to greet him.

“We just finished nursing,” one whispered. “They’re sleeping now.”

“I see,” he whispered, careful not to wake them. “Thank you, I’m very grateful for your help.”

“Not at all, My Lord,” she teared up. “Lady Jothi did so much for us, it is truly an honor to be entrusted with the care of her children.”

“We’ll be nearby if you need us,” the other said.

Now finally alone, Kamal slowly approached the crib that had been set up next to his bed. The two infants were sleeping peacefully next to each other, their chests heaving periodically to the rhythm of their breathing. They looked so small, so fragile.

“Arst… Karla…” he murmured.

Carefully, he brushed their cheeks with the tip of his fingers. They were soft and warm, and, he realized with wonder, _alive_. These were two little human beings he had helped create. His babies.

He sat down on his bed, his eyes fixed on his son and daughter’s peaceful forms, and for the first time in what felt like ages, the turmoil in his heart abated.

_“Be strong for them.”_ Jothi’s words echoed in his mind.

This did not seem like such an impossible task anymore.

Life continued on its course afterwards. The loss of Jothi left a painful hole in Kamal’s heart, but the sight of his two children filled his days with joy. He made the decision to take care of them himself, and, with much trial and errors, worked out a way to combine both his responsibilities as a clan chief and as a parent. Council meetings were spent with them on his lap until they were old enough to be left alone for a few hours, and even then they often stayed close by.

Arst grew up to be a very energetic boy, with a stubborn streak that rivaled his own. Agile on his feet and sharp of mind, he could sometimes be difficult to deal with. Karla was usually more docile, but she easily took her brother’s lead, which often turned mischief into a team effort to everyone’s great dismay. Kamal made sure to impart discipline strictly when they crossed boundaries, but otherwise left them with a great deal of freedom, taking pride in their development.

When the time came for formal education, Kamal hired a private tutor to teach Karla all the necessary skills to become a proper lady, while he entrusted Arst’s warfare and political education to Kohei. However, he soon realized his mistake when both tutors started complaining about the children’s uneven progress.

“I don’t get it!” Karla’s tutor said, after a frustrating cooking session. “Yesterday she could peel carrots just fine, yet today she’s acting as if she’s never held a peeling knife in her life. We spent all of yesterday morning going over the basics! How could she have forgotten everything in one night?”

“It is so very strange,” Kohei said, “Arst can do the forms we learned two days ago with no mistake, but he fumbles with those I taught him yesterday, even though they are simpler.”

It did not take long for Kamal to put two and two together and summon the twins to his quarters.

“Arst, Karla.”

He looked them in the eye. The same pair of bright, inquisitive crimson eyes.

“Are you two swapping places?”

Their eyes left his to meet each other’s. That was all the answer he needed. He had often suspected that they sometimes took each other’s place. At this stage of life, they were still hard to tell apart. All they needed to do was don each other’s clothes and anyone could be fooled if they didn’t look closely enough. He had never been able to prove it until now, but their lack of denial confirmed his theory.

He scolded them then, stressing on the importance of taking their education seriously.

“We are a small clan,” he said gravely. “I would be happy to let you fool around otherwise, but in our circumstances, we cannot afford to waste time. You two must become functional adults as soon as possible, and for that you have a lot to learn. Especially you, Arst. You are my heir, and you will one day be responsible for the whole clan. You must take this seriously.”

How it pained him to force such a burden upon such small shoulders. He had resented his own father for it, when he was young and more interested in playing with his friends than practicing with wooden swords or listening to boring lectures about clan politics. But with time he had come to realize his father had been right. If he had not endured the grueling practice and lectures in his youth, he would have never been ready to take up the mantle of leader when his father met his demise in a skirmish against a neighboring clan before Kamal had even reached his twenties. This was the harsh reality of the children of clan chiefs.

“So no more sneaking into each other’s lessons, all right?”

“But Father—”

“No buts!” Kamal raised his finger. “If I ever catch you swapping again, you will be severely punished. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father,” they mumbled meekly.

“Good.” He smiled to show them he was no longer mad. “You may go now.”

For about two weeks, there was no report of strange behavior. But right when Kamal was about to reward them for their obedience, Kohei came to him with new concerns.

“I think they’re doing it again,” he told him in confidence, “but I’m not entirely sure. It is hard to prove.”

“What makes you think that?” Kamal asked, frowning.

“Hmm, well… Arst’s forms were good, I’m not really complaining, but… They were much better yesterday. And his grip was rather shaky, as if he hadn’t held the practice sword in a while.”

“He might just be having a bad day…” Kamal theorized.

“That’s what I thought too—when the exact same thing happened last week. Two times…”

“Might be a fluke. Or the beginning of a pattern.”

“To be sure, I quizzed him about the Siege of Xian Du, which we’ve started learning about this week, and his answers were very detailed. So I might just be worrying for nothing, but I thought I should bring it to your attention.”

“Thank you. This isn't enough to draw conclusions, but if they are indeed swapping again, we might be able to catch them in the act next week.”

“Do not be too harsh on them,” Kohei said gently. “They were used to doing everything together. The transition must be difficult for them.”

Kamal sighed. “I know, but… they're old enough to start getting responsibilities. I would be doing them a disservice if I coddled them.”

Kohei nodded sympathetically.

“Arst especially…” Kamal added. “If our relations with the Long Dau keep worsening, he will have a difficult road ahead once he succeeds me. I must prepare him.”

“Let us just hope that the young prince is more reasonable than his father.” Kohei muttered.

Kamal shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, given his current role models,” he whispered darkly, eliciting a bitter chuckle from the other man. “Anyway,” he said more clearly, “send for me as soon as you notice any suspicious behavior. I will straighten it out.”

“Yes, sir.”

The rest of the week went smoothly, but Kamal cleared his schedule on the morning of the day he expected them to try again, just in case, hoping he was simply being too cautious. And when a messenger came into his office, slightly out of breath, informing him that Kohei was requiring his presence, he knew he had made the right choice.

“Bring Karla to the courtyard,” he ordered the messenger, before making his way there as well.

When he reached the little courtyard, where ‘Arst’ was currently practicing with Kohei. He waited before revealing himself, instead observing the scene from the shadows. Arst that day was dressed simply, in a short-sleeved tunic above shorts. Perhaps a little light considering the chilly wind, but Arst was never one to be bothered by the cold—and besides, physical activity tended to warm him up quickly. His hair was loosely tied in a ponytail, the tip of which was clinging to his neck due to sweat. At first glance, nothing out of the ordinary. However, looking at his stance and the way he swung the wooden sword, Kamal understood what Kohei meant. The display was not bad, per se, but looked like it was performed by someone who had spent more time learning the theory than actually practicing.

‘Karla’ arrived soon after, wearing warm leggings under her favorite pink dress. Her hair was braided neatly and adorned with a cute ribbon. She was taking short, quick steps, trailing behind her confused tutor. If they truly were disguised as each other, Kamal had to admit their act was impressive.

“Karla?” Arst exclaimed when he spotted her. “What are you doing here?”

She ran up to him as soon as he spoke. “We were told to come to the courtyard,” she explained.

Kamal chose this moment to come out of hiding. “I’m the one who called you.”

His sudden appearance startled them, and they hurried to greet him.

“Is there something you need, Father?” Arst asked, and the eager tone was so perfect that Kamal almost faltered. Perhaps this was all a misunderstanding, after all. But he had to make sure.

“As a matter of fact, there is,” he said brightly. Then, he dropped the smile and added coldly: “I’m going to give you _one_ chance to come clean before I get mad.”

There it was, that telltale exchanged glance that showed they knew they were in trouble.

Arst cleared his throat. “I-I… I don’t understand…” he stuttered. He was fidgeting, as if he wanted to do something with his hand but was trying hard not to.

They looked so similar it was confusing, but there were always little ways to tell. For example, Arst bit his lip when he was nervous, and Karla her nails.

“What do you mean?” Karla asked, a little too innocently.

So they were playing dumb. Well then…

“Take your clothes off,” he instructed.

Silence.

“Take your clothes off,” he repeated slowly, stressing each syllable.

“B-But Father…” Karla protested. That, too, was a tell. Arst was always the first one to contest an order, no matter what. Kamal was certain now. Cute ribbons could not fool him any longer.

“But what, Karla? Is there a reason you don’t want to? Something to hide, maybe?”

“W-Well…” Arst-as-Karla looked down, biting his lip. Next to him, his sister was chewing her thumb.

“You know what I’m hinting at, don’t you, _Arst_?”

He flinched a little at the address. “Yeah… Yeah… I’m Arst. She’s Karla,” he pointed at his twin, who whimpered “I’m sorry, Father.”

Kamal had thought the confirmation would fill him with anger, but at that moment he rather had the urge to roll his eyes.

“Sorry,” Arst flashed a sheepish grin. Oh he was way too adorable with that ribbon, it was distracting.

“I thought I made it clear what would happen if you were caught swapping again. Do you remember?”

They nodded apprehensively.

“Yet you did it again. I hope you are ready for the consequences.”

“Yeah,” Arst replied defiantly. “But I don’t agree.”

That, more than anything, was what sparked Kamal’s anger.

“What is there not to agree with?” he asked curtly. “You knew the rules, and I even gave you an out. You have no one to blame for your current predicament but yourselves.”

“No, not _that_ ,” Arst dismissed him. “You can punish me; I knew the risk, I’m ready for it. It’s the lesson plan I don’t agree with.”

“Arst,” Kohei intervened, “this is the standard education given to boys your age. My son learned the same things, though your lessons will be more detailed due to your status.”

“But why is it different than Karla’s?”

Kamal rubbed his eyes. “…Because she’s a girl. She will be expected to fulfill various household duties once she gets married. There’s no need to waste time on other topics that will be irrelevant to her.”

“But why can’t I learn that too?”

“It will be of no use to you—”

“But it _is_ useful!” Arst argued. “Did you know there is a special knife _just_ for peeling? How can I become a good chief if I don’t even know that?!”

Karla, who until then had been quiet, spoke up as well, perhaps incentivized by her brother’s argument. “Father, why can’t I learn about the clans like Arst?”

“You’re getting basic history lessons as well,” Kamal pointed out.

“His are much more detailed and interesting!” she protested.

“She’s right! And she’s much better at remembering all the details than I am! See? There’s no reason to give us separate lessons!”

Faced with his children’s barrage of objections, Kamal realized that he could not really provide them with a logical explanation besides ‘that’s how it’s always been done,’ which somehow rang hollow to him now.

“So, if I’m getting this right…” he started, “You want to do _both_ , together.”

“Yes!”

He exchanged a look with Kohei, who looked rather amused at the turn of events. Reading his mind, his friend gave him an encouraging nod.

“All right then, I will review the lesson plan.”

“Really?!” they exclaimed, eyes glimmering with hope.

“Yes. However!” he added hastily before they could rejoice. “I have two conditions.”

He had their full attention now.

“One. Accommodating everything will mean busier schedules. You will have less free time to play, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

“Two.” He looked at them in the eyes, weighing his words. “If you are determined to do it, you must commit to it entirely. Half-assing will not be tolerated. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father.”

“I will personally test your progress at the end of every week.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll work hard,” Karla promised.

Kamal was not too worried about that. When they decided on something, they usually directed all their effort into it. Karla especially was usually serious and obedient, but her brother tended to be more unpredictable.

“Sooo…” Arst asked after a while with a cheeky grin, “Are we still gonna be punished?”

“You insolent little…” Kamal grabbed him with one arm, holding him tight against his chest, and ruffled his hair with his free hand. “ _No_. But in exchange, I want you to wear that ribbon all week.”

He laughed, delighted. “Deal!”

“But it’s _mine_ ,” Karla protested.

“I’ll get you a matching one,” Kamal promised. “That way you can share the same style.”

She scrunched her nose in thought, then, seemingly satisfied with the proposition, smiled. “Okay. Thank you.”

She raised her arms toward him, and he scooped her up with his free arm, still trapping a squirming Arst against him with the other. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered into her ear. “You know you’re my favorite daughter?”

Arst finally managed to free himself from his grip and looked up, pouting. “No fair! I want a kiss too!”

“And you’re my favorite son. Come on, hop on and I’ll give you all the kisses you want,” he offered, extending his arm. Karla’s giggles were tickling his ear.

Arst didn’t need to be asked twice.

That evening, after making sure the children went to bed, Kamal invited Kohei to share a drink in his quarters. It was nothing fancy, just a batch of cheap shochu he had acquired the last time he had gone down to the Long Dau capital, but it was more flavorful than the local sake, so he was rationing it for special occasions.

“Thank you for your help,” he said while pouring him a cup. “They’re such a handful sometimes, I don’t know how I would manage without you.”

“Interesting pair, those two,” Kohei chuckled.

“You don’t say,” Kamal sighed. They clinked their cups, and he took a sip. The earthy aroma warmed him, but did little to ease his weariness. “Tell me honestly, do you think I was too lenient?”

Kohei laughed at that. “I tend to think you are often too strict. You made the right choice,” he reassured him. “Arst did have a point…”

Kamal sighed again. “Arst is becoming way too good at having a point. I’m often at a loss what to say.”

“The kid is bright. That’s a good quality for a future chief.”

“I’m just worried…” Kamal fixed his gaze on his cup, twirling it, deep in thought. “What if… What if I’m allowing them to learn to question authority?”

“They respect you,” Kohei pointed out. “I doubt they’ll try to undermine you.”

“But they now know they can object if they don’t agree with my decisions. It’s fine with me because I have their best interest at heart, but…” He looked up at Kohei with a heavy heart. “What if he talked back to Lord Lars?”

The possibility sent a shiver down his spine.

“They’ll be fine…” Kohei ventured, though he looked a little alarmed himself. “They’ll know the difference…”

“I hope so, my friend. I very much hope so."

The twins made good on their promise. Whether it was cooking, politics, sewing, or swordplay, they took every subject seriously, as eager to learn new things as they were to make their father proud.

Karla took a special interest in history, seemingly fascinated by the way events from the distant past shaped their current circumstances. Kohei was, according to her, a fun teacher, which Kamal was really grateful for, as his own tutor had been incredibly boring, something he still resented after several decades. His father had not had the means to be picky, and though funds were still tight now, Kamal made sure to put aside a few gald here and there to buy her a good book the next time business took him to the capital.

Meanwhile, Arst started accompanying him on clan duties regularly, which made Kamal recall with a certain fondness the time when he was taking him and his sister everywhere with him. Several years had passed since then, and Arst had grown from a toddler he often had to prevent from taking off on his own into a competent child he could entrust small tasks to.

Everything was going so well that, for a moment, Kamal stopped worrying about the future. But that relief only lasted until he became more involved in their swords practice.

That was a subject where Arst had surpassed his sister from the start, which was well expected, as he was the one who was going to lead his troops into battle. But more than simply do better than Karla, he actually _excelled_ at it. He was quick to learn the basics, and practiced every morning diligently. Quickly noticing his fast progress, Kohei paired him with older boys for mock duels. In one year, Arst could beat them all. By the time he was nine, he could hold his ground against accomplished adults. At ten, he won the majority of his sparring matches against any opponent in the clan.

Kamal dropped his sword in surrender. His eyes traveled from the tip of the wooden sword pointed at his neck up toward his son’s triumphant face. This was far from the first time Kamal was bested—in fact, he hadn’t won a practice fight in months now—but Arst still looked extremely pleased with himself, as if beating his father was his greatest accomplishment in life.

“Why do you look so smug? This is hardly a new development.”

Arst shook his head. “Fighting against you is always thrilling. I’m never sure if I can make it.”

“So you say, and yet you can put me on my knees without breaking a sweat.”

“That’s not true!” Arst protested. “Look!” To prove his point, he held up his ponytail and showed Kamal the nape of his neck, which was indeed sticky with sweat.

Kamal shook his head, chuckling. “At this point, Kohei is the only one who still stands a chance against you.”

“You’re stronger than Kohei, though,” Arst pointed out. After a moment of reflection, he added “But he’s more flexible, I guess. Since he’s my instructor, he knows my moves the best and can adapt easily.” A devious smiled appeared on his lips. “Well, the reverse is true as well. If I work harder at anticipating his reactions, he won’t keep breaking my victory streaks for long.”

Kamal wondered when listening to a child just barely eleven analyzing his mentors’ fighting styles so accurately had become the norm rather than something to marvel at.

“I can’t wait to meet disciples from other clans,” Arst continued cheerily. “I want to test my skills against stronger warriors.”

A chill suddenly came over Kamal, and for a second he found it hard to breathe.

“Arst,” he said tensely, “I want you to promise me something.”

Noticing the change of tone, Arst immediately mirrored his serious expression and stood straight, attentive. “Yes, Father?”

Kamal put his hands on his son’s shoulders and crouched down to his level, looking at him in the eyes gravely. “You are very strong,” he started, and Arst failed to conceal another pleased smile at his words. Kamal offered him a small, reassuring smile of his own. “I am proud of you, and I’m looking forward to your future accomplishments.” He paused there and let the words stand on their own, let himself bask in his son’s thrilled expression. Not for the first time, Kamal wondered why he could not just let moments like these simply be _happy_ , unmarred of worries and cold realities. “However,” he continued, trying to ignore how Arst’s smile fell at that, “you must restrain your strength when you are outside of our lands.”

Arst frowned in confusion. “Why?”

Kamal sighed. “You are strong,” he repeated, “much stronger than many people were at your age. Your incredible skill will be valued… but also envied. Strong warriors are supposed to be born from the elite, not from small clans like ours.”

“That’s stupid,” Arst said flatly. His honesty would have made Kamal laugh if it didn’t worry him so much.

“I know it is,” he agreed, “but that’s how it is. The Long Dau lords will not take it well if you appear too strong or defiant. Once you are old enough to join them on the battlefield, you must defer to them and try to appear as unremarkable as possible. Do not show off, do not stand out.” What was the saying his own father had often repeated to him when he taught him about clan relations? Ah, right… “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. You must avoid bringing attention to yourself.”

Arst stayed silent for a while, then nodded slowly. “I understand.” His face told Kamal that he did not agree, but he kept his opinion to himself. That was enough for now, Kamal reasoned. He suddenly pulled Arst to his chest and hugged him.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he whispered in his ear. Arst had grown exponentially, both in size and maturity, and in a few years would become old enough to succeed him, but to Kamal, who was holding him tightly in his arms like he had no intention to let go, Arst would always be his baby, a little child he wished to shield from the harsh world they lived in.

Despite Arst’s promise to be careful, a lingering feeling of anxiety settled in Kamal’s heart. Kohei tried his best to reassure him and convince him that he was just fretting too much as usual, but this time the impression was hard to shake.

Perhaps it was because of the new tribute the Long Daus had decided to impose on the northern clans, straining their relationship even further. Perhaps it was the fact that Auj Oule had not seen a major war in quite some time and warriors were feeling restless. Perhaps it was just his imagination. But Kamal could not help feeling like something big was going to happen.

That feeling only grew as the twins were nearing their twelfth birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> And we all know what happens when Gaius is 12...


End file.
